


All of You

by Jodygoroar



Category: The Shannara Chronicles (TV)
Genre: Backstory, Dancing, F/M, Family, Female Masterbation, Finally the smut, First Time Together, Fluff, Friendship, I promise, Love, Love Story, Marriage Proposal, Party, Romance, Sex Dreams, Slow Burn, Sorry Not Sorry, TSC - Freeform, The Shannara Chronicles - Freeform, Wedding Night, Wedding Reception, ander is a gentleman, ander/amberle family, but it was worth it, catander - Freeform, catania/amberle friendship, first I love you, it took forever, it will eventually be m/e rated, love making, romantic smut, sappy romance, shannara - Freeform, they wrote their own vows, this burn is slow, uncle!ander, wedding ceremony, wedding vows
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-12
Updated: 2016-08-17
Packaged: 2018-07-23 15:08:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 16,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7468401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jodygoroar/pseuds/Jodygoroar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This story is full of spoilers for the end of season 01, beginning a few months after 01x10.</p><p>Ander Elessedil misses his niece beyond words, he visits her often at the sanctuary. Catania misses Amberle immensely as well, they had been friends for many years, and also visits her. They both end up at the Ellcrys one night and romance ensues. This is the SS Catander, welcome aboard. Inspiration for the title and chapter names come from John Legend's <i>All of Me</i></p><p>Comments are amazing and feed my soul.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Memories [Prolouge]

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MorrigansPriestess](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MorrigansPriestess/gifts).



Ander Elessedil, King of the Four Lands, sat alone, an empty glass of wine in one hand and looked up at the crimson leaves above. Starlight shone down between the branches onto his tired face.

He sighed. “It’s just not the same without you, Little Fox,” he whispered to her roots, the childish name bringing a fresh sting to his eyes.

He remembered the first day he’d used the endearment. She was still a baby really, just learning how to walk, her chubby little legs giving out on her more than once. Ander had watched as Aine held her tiny fingers, as she tried and tried and tried.

After the first two dozen falls Amberle just sat on the floor. Despite Aine’s encouragement and attempts to get her to try again, she sat there, stubborn and unmoving, silently protesting the act of walking.

Aine sighed, smiling fondly at his little princess. He placed a kiss on the top of her head, smiled at Ander, and headed off to attend to matters with their father, the king.

Ander watched Amberle as she contemplated her first big dilemma. He could see the gears turning, she was thinking up a plan. Ander scooted closer to her across the floor as her dark eyebrows knitted together in concentration. He moved up right next to her, watchful and silent. She turned to look questioningly up at him, all brown eyes and pink cheeks.

“You can do it, Amberle,” he told her softly.

She smiled up at him, sudden light in her eyes. She spun around, facing away from him, pressing her little hands on the floor and sticking her bottom up into the air. Amberle peeked at him, upside down, brown curls falling to the floor. She smiled a little brighter and pushed off the floor, standing tall so fast she nearly fell over once more. The young elf wobbled a moment and stuck her arms out from her sides. She steadied herself and finally took a step forward, and another, and another, and she kept going.

Amberle was across the room and back again before Ander even had the chance to blink, she came running at him, collapsing into his open arms in a pile of giggles.

Ander smiled down at his niece, his eyes filled with love. “You did it, Little Fox,” he said.


	2. Midnight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Catania joins Ander in the sanctuary.

Ander visited the sanctuary often, he sat on the stone steps at the base of the Ellcrys, _Amberle_.

Ander spoke of his duties and responsibilities as the newly crowned King. He confessed his fears to her and how he wished she were there. She had always been so kind and wise; he could have used her council on many a political dispute.

He’d been unable to sleep this evening, and had wandered the halls for a while, his feet moving of their own accord. He found himself, unsurprisingly, staring up at the blood red leaves against a star-lit, moonless sky.

That was hours ago, his backside was sore from sitting on the stone and his right foot had turned to pins and needles. He stood and began stretching, loosening the tension in his back. He closed his eyes and rode the head rush of blood flowing through his sleeping limbs. He sighed and opened his eyes, to find a golden crown of blonde braids leaning around the corner.

“Catania,” he breathed, still a bit dizzy from the stretching. “You’re, ah…” he gestured dumbly with his hands, indicating their setting, “out late…” he finished and groaned internally, hanging his head just a little.

She looked down shyly, a smile lighting her face. “I didn’t mean to disturb you, your majesty, I’ll go,” she blushed slightly and turned to leave.

“Wait,” he called behind her. She looked up at him and he smiled sadly at her, “You miss her as much as I do?”

King Ander’s words plucked at her heart strings. The thought of her lost best friend was painful most days, but the raw sound of his voice and the broken look in his eyes brought fresh tears to hers. Suddenly she needed the soothing balm of her best friend’s presence, even if she was a tree.

Catania stepped into the room and softly closed the door behind her.

Ander could see the hesitation on her face, she had been shy around him ever since he’d inherited the crown. Her nervous energy reminded him of a hummingbird, able to fly away in an instant. He sat back down on the right side of the highest step and patted the spot next to him coaxingly.

She sat beside him, the hem of her dark blue skirt brushing the toe of his left boot. Catania placed a hand lovingly on the nearest root, and sighed, calmed by Amberle’s steady presence.

They sat in silence a time, Catania, lost in her thoughts, looking up at the stars, Ander sneaking glances at her as often as he dared.

She puzzled him.

He’d known her most of her life. He’d watched her grow up alongside Amberle: just two years older than the Little Fox who had made him an uncle at twelve years old. Even as a child she’d reminded him of a bird, flitting around, quick and delicate as can be. She’d been a constant presence in his life, the only familiar face besides Allanon that remained after the tragic, world-saving events of a few months ago. It was comforting, having her nearby. Ander found himself leaning towards her and staring openly at her. The starlight caught in the corner of her eyes, making a sparkle show in the endless blue of unshed tears. Her normally golden hair, took on a silvery appearance and was springing loose from her carefully constructed crown of braids.

She dropped her gaze from the sky just in time to catch him staring. Ander smiled like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Blushing ferociously, Catania stood quickly and mumbled some excuse about trying to get some sleep before dawn. She fled from the room, escaping the electricity coursing in waves between them.

“Good night, Catania,” Ander whispered into the empty space she had filled just seconds ago.

The king smirked and looked up at her branches once more, “Stick around, Fox, this could get interesting.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story will be starting slow-ish and pick up as the chapters come.


	3. Breathing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some backstory about Catania, how she came to be at the palace and a brief introduction to her friendship with Amberle..

He found himself wandering towards the kitchens.

Again.

For the third, no fourth, time this week.

King Ander sighed heavily, shaking his head and turning back the way he’d come; back towards his office, to the weight of the crown that stayed in the locked drawer of his desk.

He had never expected to wear the blasted thing in all his life, and now that the duty and responsibility were his, the weight of it seemed to press heavily onto his shoulders. His people knew who he was, there was no need to wear the thing as a sign of his position. It was an annoyance to him, really, a cumbersome token that had never fit him quite right. The royal emblem pinned clear on his chest was enough, no need to brag about the job he never should have had, and never wanted.

Ander, lost in his own thoughts, as he was so often of late, didn’t notice the opened and hastily closed kitchen door as he ambled back down the hall.

\-----

Her heart slammed in her chest, kicked into high gear by the sight of him in the corridor lit by the afternoon sun and the loud bang that had rung out when she slammed the door. Still facing the wooden door, Catania took a steadying breath and braced herself for the reaction she knew would be waiting the moment she turned around.

The kitchen was filled with servants preparing the evening meal, steam rising from the stove, knives chopping away at vegetables, and dishes being scrubbed. Normally the room was noisy, hot, and humming like a bee’s nest. When she finally turned to face the room, several pair of eyes looked at her with a range of emotions. Some were confused, one or two were irritated, and several others smirked at her silliness. Catania blushed profusely.

Fira, the cook, looked at her with understanding and compassion in her eyes. Fira was the reason Catania had come to be at the palace at the tender age of six. Both her parents had died in a house fire. She had lost it all; her family, her home, and everything she possessed but the dress she’d been wearing as she picked wildflowers in a field nearby.

In the beginning she had stayed with the kind elderly couple who had lived next door, but it was not the same, they did not love her the way her parents had. They did not understand her. They were kind and provided her with food and a place to sleep, but it was not home.

Catania feared she would live this way forever; until one day a letter arrived. The palace cook, Fira, had been notified of her cousins’ passing and that they had left behind a young orphaned daughter with no other family. A royal caravan with elven warriors on the back arrived three days later. Her cousin had stepped out of the vehicle first, a short and wide woman with frizzy blonde hair, followed by a girl half her age, with a friendly eyes and waves of hair the color of chocolate.

“Hello, Catania, I’m so happy to have found you,” Fira told her, pulling her into a motherly hug. “It will be wonderful to get you to your new home; all the kitchen staff are excited to meet’cha. But I brought along a little friend for you, to get you started.” Fira gestured behind her to the little girl staring curiously at her. “Come over, Princess. Say hello.”

The girl smiled brightly and skipped up to Catania, nearly her height, perhaps she was a bit older than she had first thought. “Hi, Catania, Miss Fira said we could be friends if we want!” she reached out and took her hand, clasping it in both of hers.

Fira crouched behind the Princess, whose name Catania would not learn until the next morning, smiling warmly at her, and Catania’s heart swelled, she did have family, and she had somewhere to go, and even a friend.

The girls spoke animatedly the entire way back to Arborlon, becoming fast friends and bonding over a shared love of running, art, and being outside. They had been the best of friends until only recently when the Princess had been sacrificed to a tree to save the world.

Her lovely daydream shattered into pieces at the sound of Fira’s commanding voice ringing through the kitchen, “Back to work ladies!”

She winked conspiratorially at Catania and carried on dicing carrots into the stew. Catania breathed easily, silently thanking her cousin. She shoved all thoughts distracting of King Ander from her mind and carried on with her chores.

Several hours later, the council’s afternoon tea and been served and cleared, the kitchen inventory had been checked, the table set for dinner, and dessert prepared. Catania normally loved helping Fira with the delectable variety of succulent dishes that followed her meals, but this evening she was nervous and jittery, filled with unspent energy and unspoken thoughts. She hurried through clean up as quickly as possible and scurried off to the sanctuary. She needed the evening sky and the Ellcrys’ soothing presence.

The light of a single candle danced along the dark corridors as she made her way from the hot kitchen to the chilly night air of the sanctuary, fall was nearly over, and winter approached. Catania poked her head around the corner like she always did, checking to be sure the space was empty but for her best friend.

“You know, Amberle, you make me look completely crazy,” she jokingly said. “My best friend is a _tree_!”

She smiled at herself and curled up at Amberle’s trunk, settling her toes in the soft moss at the base. The tree listened carefully as her friend confessed all the things she had thought and felt since the last time she’d visited: the night she’d bumped into King Ander.

She told Amberle about the meeting they’d had, the sadness that had overwhelmed her at his question, and the dizzying feeling that had overcome her when she’d found him staring into her eyes, fire sparking in his.

“What am I supposed to do now?” she pleaded with the silent tree. Catania stared, frustrated and heartbroken at the red leaves above. She leaned her head back against the rough bark and sighed, “You’re no help at all.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear the next chapter will have them in the same room. Promise!


	4. Drawing Me In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ander and Catania meet in the sanctuary and talk all night long. It's romantic. This chapter is quite a bit longer.

Her soft voice floated around the partially open door, tickling his senses. Gooseflesh rose on his arm; a tingle ran down his spine. He felt his skin grow hot. Ander had been far too distracted by her presence of late, or more accurately her lack of presence. It had been eight nights since he had seen her last, and that was not for lack of trying. He’d gone out of his way to search for her, requested tea at the exact time he knew her to be working, and wandered the halls at night, visiting the sanctuary every time. He was sure Amberle was growing tired of his sulking, but he simply could not contain his disappointment.

Leaning closer in to the door, he could make out what she was saying, and it warmed his heart.

“…get him out of my thoughts. I’ve tried avoiding him but it doesn’t help.” Catania sighed loudly at the obstinate tree. “It’s like he’s haunting me, and I haven’t even seen him!”

Ander pressed his forehead to the door, his dark mood lifting. He knew it was wrong to listen to her personal thoughts, she was confiding in her best friend, his niece, and yet he could not tear himself away. He had been so sure she wanted nothing to do with him, or his crown. He’d been unable to think of anything but her for far too long. Ever since the Demon War had been won he’d felt so miserably alone; his father, his brother, Diana, Amberle. Even Allanon, when he was in Arborlon at all, locked himself away in the library scouring for more information on what may have caused Bandon’s slide into darkness, and how to bring him back into the light.

The only solace Ander had found was in his horse, Philandros. The grey stallion had been the last gift Aine had given him before he’d been killed by the gnome assassin. Phil was a wonderful companion; they rode for miles around Arborlon, but he was a rather poor conversationalist. The last remaining Elessedil longed for respite from the pain of his shattered heart. The bright glow of sunshine that was Catania had drawn him in without preamble, fusing the tiny cracks in his heart, one by one.

Leaning a bit further around the door, Ander could see her. She sat at the base of Amberle’s trunk, her toes resting on the soft moss, knees pulled up to her chest and arms curled around herself. She was whispering softly to her lost friend. Catania leaned her head down, touching her arms and sighed, a slight shiver running over her. Winter was well on its way and the sanctuary was cold, all hard stone and open sky.

Moving purposefully away from the door, Ander sought out the nearest linen closet, retrieved a warm blanket and returned. He stepped loudly so as not to sneak up on her.

The heavy door was silent as he opened it to find the room completely empty. Clearly she had left in the two minutes it had taken to find the closet and return. His heart sank again, a few tiny cracks splitting open once more. Laying the blanket where Catania had just been, he shook his head, speaking to the Ellcrys, “Always just a moment too late.”

Little did he know that Catania was standing just outside the door, listening to his words, the fringes of her own broken heart beginning to mend. Part of her longed to go to him, but her better judgment reminded her how foolish an idea it was, how late it was, and that she had to be up with the sun in the morning. With one last longing glance at the king, she turned and went to her chamber, feeling a little lighter and Amberle’s smiling face in her memory.

Catania slept better than she had in weeks, she woke to the sun shining in her window and a clarity in her mind. The day flew past, she felt as though she was floating across the floor, speeding efficiently through her chores. Unable to put a finger on exactly why she was so light today she chalked it up to a great night sleep.

By nightfall she was itching to get back to the sanctuary. She curled right up in her usual spot, this time pulling the soft blanket around her shoulders. Catania brought the material up to her face and nuzzled her nose into the scent of freshly laundered cotton mixed with just a touch of unfamiliar scent she suspected belonged to the king himself.

“Who am I kidding, Amberle? I mean; I have a crush on the king of the Four Lands,” she scolded herself. “I serve him tea for crying out loud!” She sat silently a moment, contemplating. “At least Tilton was commander of the elven army, and that was when Arion was to inherit the throne. Everything has changed now.”

Little did Catania know that Amberle heard her.

Little did she know that, as king, Ander had the power to choose whomever he wished, despite what the council may be suggesting.

Little did Catania know Amberle had heard the same feelings from Ander just the night before.

Amberle had very little to do now that she had merged with the Ellcrys. Thankfully she could hear the people around her and even access all the memories of, Mevra, the female elf who had been chosen to be the Ellcrys before her. She had even had memories of Amberle’s father, Aine, before he died. There were memories of all the Elessedil family, her grandparents, when she had learned to walk with her uncle Ander, he’d been just a teenager at the time. Her favorite memories, however, were those of her and Catania playing at the base of the Ellcrys. Often had they sat in the exact spot Catania was curled up in now, sharing their secrets, braiding each other’s hair, and talking about their dreams for the future. Then in a single day all of Amberle’s dreams had gone up in smoke. Catania was left behind to dream a new future without her.

Through the memories of the Ellcrys Amberle had learned of Catania’s short-lived and ill-fated romance with Bandon. She knew how Uncle Ander had been lonely for far too long and how much the responsibility of the entire kingdom weighed on him. If she still had a beating heart it would have swelled with love at the idea of her best friend finding happiness and love with her last remaining family member.

“I simply need to put the idea out of my head. It’s a pointless waste of energy and heartache,” Catania sighed. Amberle could hear the resigned sadness in the simple sound and silently pleaded for her friend not to give up just yet. It seemed her wish was heard, for just at that moment the sanctuary door opened and Ander walked cautiously inside. Catania’s soft intake of breath was quiet enough that he probably didn’t hear it, but Amberle did.

It was moments like this that Amberle wished she didn’t have ears. This was a private moment, so she retreated, instead, into Mevra’s memories.

Catania could have sworn the moss under her toes warmed just as King Ander came into the sanctuary. It was as if Amberle were giving her a much needed hug, in the only way she could. She took a deep, steadying breath and looked up at him, and her breath was gone.

He was so handsome, he’d shed his jacket sometime during the day and pushed his sleeves up to his elbows, showing tan and muscular forearms. His hair stood up from his head as though he’d been tugging at the brown curls restlessly. As he walked closer, a smile spreading across his face, Catania could almost see the strain of the day wash from his face. Deep in the back of her mending heart she hoped it was because of her, for the same lightness swept away her worries at the sight of him.

“Good evening, Catania,” he greeted her, quirking an eyebrow at the space next to her.

She smiled, blushing just a bit, pulled her feet in closer under the blanket and nodded for him to sit.

Catania sat quietly, unsure of what to say or how to start. She looked up at him and found him staring again. A fine blush spread across her cheeks and she glanced away.

Ander smiled to himself, she was so shy around him. How best to break the silence?

“The stars are lovely tonight,” he said. The crisp winter air had cleared off all the clouds and the sky twinkled merrily with light.

At his words, Catania glanced at his face, he was staring up above now and she took a moment to appreciate the strong edges of his jaw, wondering if his lips were as soft as they were inviting.

It was as if he could hear her thoughts because a smile broke across his face and he looked at her and asked, “What are you thinking?

She blushed even more furiously. “I- it- the sky… is indeed beautiful tonight, your majesty.”

His face fell just a little. Catching himself he shook his head slightly, “Catania, we have known each other many years. There is no need for such formalities with me.”

Ander couldn’t help but grin like a fool as Catania’s beautiful face became an even darker shade of red. Why was she so embarrassed in front of him? Attempting to draw her further into the conversation he asked, “Do you talk to Amberle, too?”

He was rewarded with a fresh brightness in her eyes and an excited, “Yes! I tell her about everything that goes on. I don’t want her to feel forgotten or like she’s missing out. Last night I was here,” she glanced away shyly at that, “and I was telling her about the mare in the stables who just gave birth to her foal. I know she would have loved to meet him.”

Ander smiled at her affectionately. “Yes, Amberle loved horses and that foal is one sweet little boy. He will make a fine stallion just like his father,” Ander said proudly. After all the foal’s father was his own riding companion, Philandros, and though no one had known this, that mare, Adelina, was supposed to have been Amberle’s. He had picked her especially for his beloved niece. She was to have been a homecoming gift after the demon war was won. Sadly, Amberle had been unable to enjoy the gift, though Ander had told her about Adelina. He knew she would have loved the gentle mare. Looking back at Catania the seed of an idea burrowed itself into the back of his mind. He tucked it away for further contemplation at a later time.

They settled comfortably into steady conversation after that. They talked about Amberle, what they missed about her, what she would have thought about the things that had changed in the months since she had become the Ellcrys.

Slowly Catania opened up to him, talking animatedly about things that interested her; books, riding, walks in the wildflower fields. She was explaining that she’d been doing just that while her parents were dying in that house fire so long ago, “…but I just can’t help but love the sight of it, all the colors, the animals that graze in the tall grass, the smell of all those flowers.” She looked wistfully off into the distance, “It’s just so beautiful.”

“Mm,” Ander hummed, lost in the beauty of her eyes, the color of morning glories under the sunshine of her golden hair.

They talked for hours, chatting comfortably under scarlet leaves and the stars.

Catania noticed the dawn breaking in the distance and said, “I had no idea it was so late!” She stood and folded the blanket, “I have to go, I’m supposed to be serving breakfast this morning.”

Suddenly an idea came to him.

“Wait,” he said grinning, “Meet me back here an hour before sunset. There’s something I want to show you.”

Catania smiled back, “All right, I’ll see you then,” she paused, “…Ander.”

The taste of his name on her lips lingered all day.


	5. Showing Hearts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ander takes Catania to a special place at sunset and they share their first kiss.

She was all blushing skin and long legs, tangled up in the sheets with him. Her lips were swollen from his kisses. Every single pin from her carefully sculpted crown of braids pulled loose, her golden hair falling freely about her shoulders. She was glorious, and she was _his_.

He ran his fingers teasingly across her stomach, tickling her, making her arch off the sheets into his touch. He pressed his lips to her navel and she moaned, her breath coming in short gasps. He began trailing a path of hot kisses down…

“Ander,” she whispered.

“Ander…” He stirred.

A hand on his shoulder pulled him from the dream.

“King Ander,” Allanon said, concern in his eyes. “You are flushed, are you unwell? Have you been sleeping?”

Ander cleared his throat, adjusting in his seat to lessen the strain of his hardened length pressing against the front of his trousers, and scrubbed his hands over his face, trying to wipe away the last remnants of the alluring dream. He’d fallen asleep at his desk which was unsurprising considering he had not slept last night. The hours of conversation with Catania had been worth it, however.

“What?” he asked. His mind was lingering on the passionate look in her eyes as he’d made love to her. Clearly his body lingered in the dream as well; he shifted in his seat once more. “Uh… yes, I’m fine.” Allanon looked at him skeptically. “Really Allanon, I was simply up late last night,” he said.

Allanon looked at him a moment longer with concern in his eyes. “Very well,” he said. “I’ve found a passage in an old tome in the library that may give some insight into the darkness that has consumed Bandon. With your consent I will ride east at first light to investigate further.”

“Yes, of course, Allanon,” he said, finally focusing more clearly, “any information could prove to be useful.”

Allanon was obviously still concerned about his king. He was a loyal and trust worthy confidant and Ander was grateful he had chosen to stay in Arborlon once the demon war had been won. “Really, Allanon, I’m fine, just lacking in a little rest today. Go. Seek your knowledge, or whatever it is you druids do,” he said smiling.

“Very well, I’ll return as soon as possible,” and with one last glance he was off.

Allanon left his office, closing the door softly behind him and he was alone with the image of Catania’s supple body, naked and wanting beneath him. The image sent a fresh wave of desire down his spine and to his groin. Ander sighed, shifting once more in his chair and turned to look out the window. His office overlooked the palace courtyard and in the distance he could see Amberle, standing tall and shimmering in the mid-day sunlight.

“I’ve really gotten myself into trouble this time, huh, Little Fox?”

The wind blew, rustling her leaves as if she were laughing at his predicament. He scowled at her good naturedly and bowed his head back over the quarterly reports from his tenant farmers, vowing to focus until he was to meet Catania.

He tried not to watch the slowly lengthening shadows as they crept across his desk, but his fingers itched and his body burned to be near her again.

Finally, the late afternoon sun shone orange before him. His heart leapt with anticipation in his chest. Quickly he tidied up his unfinished paperwork and threw himself out of his chair and out the door. Fira stopped him in the halls with a question about the week’s menu.

“Not now, Fira, I’ve something important to see to,” he told her, walking by quickly “I trust your judgement implicitly,” he said over his shoulder.

She practically glowed with pride at that, “Yes, your majesty.”

He tried not to run to the sanctuary but it was terribly difficult. Ander opened the door suspecting he was going to be the first there, he was a bit early after all. To his immense delight he found Catania standing facing the Ellcrys. She was beautiful in a dark purple velvet dress with silver trim. Her hair braided eloquently atop her head. At the sound of the door she looked over her shoulder at him and smiled, flushing ever so slightly.

The pink rising in her cheeks had him recalling that dream once more, his body reacting instantly. He shoved the lurid thoughts away and walked to stand beside her. “Good evening,” he said.

“Hello, Ander,” she replied, his name like a song to his ears, an enormous smile lighting his face.

He simply stood looking into her blue eyes, unwilling to break the connection, unwilling to spoil the moment with words. His heart swelled and his fingers tingled. Catania blushed again, his intense gaze unnerving her.

He offered her his arm, “Shall we?”

Taking his arm, she followed him through the door and out into the courtyard. The sun hung low in the sky, brushing the tops of the trees. The first night star could be seen far to the east where the sky was darkening.

The air had a slight chill to it and Catania leaned in closer to Ander, seeking the heat of his body, tucking the fingers of her other hand into the crook of his elbow. He guided her through the courtyard and out onto a small path hidden behind a row of hedges. The path was old, and not very well maintained. The stones were loose in spots and completely missing in others. She stumbled once or twice, leaning more heavily on his arm, he supported her and guided her slowly away from the palace.

They came to the end of the path, stepping out into a field Catania had never seen just as the sun was beginning to touch the horizon. As it sank slowly beyond the trees in the distance, the tall grass waving in the breeze glowed orange in the light.

Catania said, “It’s beautiful.”

Ander nodded at her, smiling. “Just… wait…” he whispered in her ear.

The sun continued to dip beyond the trees, the shadows growing longer and fading into the night. The stars came out above, twinkling in the growing darkness.

He looked at her face, she was smiling contentedly at the sight before her. Ander watched her eyes grow wide as it began.

One by one lightning bugs rose from the waving grass, lighting up the night.

Catania’s hands fell free of his arm and she stepped forward in wonder, mesmerized by the light of ten million fireflies.

Her laughter rung out into the night as she spun a circle before him. She glowed as brightly as the night sky above, amid the blinking light, turning his favorite sight into an even more precious memory.

Ander continued to watch her twirl, running her fingers over the tops of the grass, moving through the fireflies like an ethereal creature of twilight. She looked back at him, amazement in her eyes.

“Do you like it?” he asked softly, stepping forward and catching her hands in his.

She looked around them, the light reflecting in her eyes, an unbreakable smile across her lips. “It’s like a dream,” she wondered.

Pulling her closer into his arms, he placed one hand cautiously at the small of her back, gazing into her eyes as though he would never let her go.

“You are my dream,” he breathed.

She looked into his eyes, the childlike wonder of the night replaced with a passionate fire he recognized in himself.

The world shone with a new clarity and suddenly everything seemed right again. For the first time in months, Ander knew his reason; and it was to love Catania.

He cupped her cheek gently, tilting her face up to his, and brought his lips down to hers. He kissed her as the sun kissed the sky, as the stars kissed the night. With purpose and meaning, and sending the world reeling around them. She opened to him, touching his chest tentatively with her finger tips, falling into his embrace, hoping to spend the rest of her life held in his arms, cocooned in the magical evening light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some inspiration for this chapter was taken from Owl City's _Fireflies_.


	6. Perfect Imperfections

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ander and Catania enjoy a romantic evening by the fire. A blizzard turns into a thunder storm [Call it artistic license, who knows what the whether will do a few thousand years after nuclear war?] It turns out Catania is afraid of storms and Ander comforts her...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All the Robert Frost poems that are quoted in this chapter can be found at this website: http://www.poemhunter.com/robert-frost/

King Ander saw Catania nearly every day after that. She went out of her way to bring him his tea in the mornings, and he invented reasons to visit her in the kitchens. They went for walks often, bundled up against the winter winds. He made up excuses to call her to his office so he could see her, to steal her time and her kisses.

One particularly cold evening they lay on the carpet together before the fireplace in Ander’s private library. He knew she loved books and had delighted in sharing the space with her two weeks ago.

“You’re free to come here any time you wish,” he’d told her. 

This evening they had come to the quiet space, snuggled before the fire as a blizzard turned the outside world into a frozen wasteland. Ander lay with his head in her lap as she read to him from her favorite book of poetry. It was an ancient thing that had somehow survived thousands of years since the time before the Great Wars. The words had always spoken to her soul. A man named Robert Frost, ironically appropriate, she’d thought, for this evening.

“The woods are lovely, dark and deep, but I have promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep, and miles to go before I sleep,” her gentle voice lilted over the words melodically while her fingers played idly in his hair. The winds raged outside the windows, twisting the flames in the heart.

Suddenly, the air grew quiet, eerily silent out of nowhere, then…

**BOOM!**

The lightning flashed through the night, illuminating the room in harsh light, thunder followed almost immediately, rumbling through her bones.

Catania stiffened beside him, her eyes filled with dread as she looked out the window, the precious book tumbling from her fingers. Ander looked up at her, concern clear in his eyes.

“Are you alright?” he began to ask but his words were drowned under the crashing wave of more thunder. She dissolved into silent tears at the sound, curling in on herself tightly, hiding from the storm.

Sitting up, Ander pulled her into his lap, rubbing soothing circles on her back.

“Shh, I’m here,” he told her, another crash echoing above them. He felt her shudder in his arms. He hugged her tighter and placed a kiss on the top of her head as she nuzzled under his chin.

Ander rocked her gently, comforting her against the raging noise of the storm. He scooped up the book of poems, flipping to find an especially beautiful one. He began to read aloud to her. His voice low in her ear.

“Nature’s first green is gold, Her hardest hue to hold. Her early leaf’s a flower; but only so an hour.”

He read the words to her, the storm fading into the distance. Soon the wind blew softly once more against the window panes. Ander chose another passage, continuing without pause.

“Now close the windows and hush all the fields: if the trees must, let them silently toss;  
No bird is singing now, and if there is, be it my loss.”

He held the tome in his left hand, his right playing comfortingly at the nape of her neck, tracing the shell of her ear. Eventually the last of the storm faded into nothing. The snow falling silently in the night.

Catania relaxed in his arms and he placed the book carefully aside, leaning back to look into her face, “Scared of storms, hmm?” he asked her gently.

She looked away, embarrassed by the childish fear. “Ever since I was little,” she confessed. “Thank you for reading to me. It helped; having something to focus on. Your voice is very soothing.” She smiled up at him, her eyes filled with gratitude and love. Catania reached up, touching his cheek with her fingertips.

Her eyes shone bright in the light from the dying fire. Catania wrapped her fingers around the back of his neck and she pulled his lips down to hers. Kissing him slowly; exploring. Ander gripped her shoulders, deepening the kiss. As always she responded immediately to his touch.

Her blood heated and her skin tingled everywhere his fingers touched, burning a tail of cinders down her sides. The fire spread through her body, settling low in her stomach. She surprised him by laying back and pulling him down on top of her, running her fingernails across his back. He settled his hips against hers, pressing into the heat of her body, seeking the friction she was happy to provide.

It was Ander who pulled away, minutes later, gasping and light headed. “Wait, my love. Stop,” he told her, touching his forehead to hers, “or I won’t be able to.”

“What if I don’t want you to stop?” she asked him, a devilish glint in her cobalt eyes.

“No,” he told her, smiling, touching her cheek lovingly. “No, I will not make love to you until the day I know you are mine forever.”

“I _am_ yours,” she told him, “forever.”

He smiled down at her. Ander kissed her again, more chastely, but no less passionately.

“It’s late,” he stood and pulled her up, “You should sleep, and so should I. I have to leave in the morning,” he said. “I’ll be gone at least two weeks, probably longer.”

She pouted playfully at him, knowing full well his trip was important. Ander was meeting with the leaders of the other races. This was the first time in many years that the elves, humans, and gnomes would all meet together. They were finalizing the terms of a peace treaty. Catania would be lonely without Ander but she knew how important this meeting was.

As king and the proponent of the treaty Ander needed to be there. The elven council would oversee the day to day goings on of Arborlon while he was away. Catania cringed inwardly at that, the council didn’t exactly approve of the young King’s choices, including his choice to spend so much time with Princess Amberle’s ‘little friend from the kitchens’.

Ander walked her all the way to her chambers and lingered at the door unwilling as she to say goodnight, for they knew it would be weeks before they saw each other again. He held her by the waist, kissing her softly. They stood, holding one another a few minutes longer until he finally pulled away.

“I’ve lingered long enough. I must get some sleep or they will have to strap me to Philandros,” he chuckled. “Good night, my love, I shall return to you as quickly as I can.”  
Ander leaned in for one last kiss before she opened her door and went inside, “Good night, Your Majesty,” she smirked at him. “Travel safely.”


	7. All Your Edges

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Catania is missing Ander while he is away. Her days are lonely and her nights are lonelier. She has dreams about Ander. Things get steamy.

It had been eight days.

Eight long, lonely days.

Excruciating days.

Catania was missing Ander like his absence was a hole in her chest. With every mile he’d ridden away from her the ache had grown. She consoled herself with the knowledge that he was doing important work for the Four Lands and would come home to her soon. It didn’t make much difference, though.

She kept herself busy during the day, as best she could. Catania helped her friends in the kitchens and worked slower than she had been, trying to eat up the hours of the day light.

It wasn’t much help, however, when she had to serve the Elven council. They had never liked her, they knew her presence at Arborlon was due entirely to the good will of Fira, and later on, the friendship she had with Amberle. The council allowed her to stay, but that didn’t mean they had to like her. Their disapproval of Catania had only grown since she relationship with their prince king had become public.

For the most part they were silent in their irritation, they showed their dislike in hateful glares and a lack of any kindness when she simply did her job. On the third morning after Ander had left she brought the council their morning tea, as per usual. Most times she would receive a few kind smiles in the otherwise stern room, but this morning she was the target of many a condescending look and not a single “thank you”. She served the tea as quickly and inconspicuously as possible, trying her best to avoid any further notice, but she was not so lucky.

“Catania,” Council Member Kael stopped her on her way out the door. “That will be all,” she said, her eyes steely, a very pointed tone to her voice.

It was clear to Catania that Kael was telling her all she would ever be in this palace was a servant. Catania held her head high as she carried the silver tray out the door and back to the kitchens. She walked steadily, a suit of stone armor covering herself from their harsh opinions. 

The moment she walked into the kitchen her armor began cracking, fissures splitting up the stone, Kael’s harsh words and the council’s negative opinions digging into her soul.

She placed the tray on the counter with trembling hands, the china clattering all the while. Bracing her hands on the surface she closed her eyes against the sting of tears and took a deep breath.

“Don’t let them get to you, dear,” Fira whispered softly behind her. “They are lonely, bitter old elves, with not a fraction of the happiness I have seen on your face these past weeks.”

Catania’s shoulders relaxed, Fira’s words sinking in, soothing the raw feeling left over from Kael’s disapproval. “Thank you,” she said, wiping a single tear from her cheek.

“King Ander will be home soon,” she comforted her and moved on, beginning the preparations for dinner.

\----

The nights were a different situation entirely. She’d lay awake, in the dark worrying about him.

Had he reached the meeting hall safely? Had his horse thrown a shoe on the road? Had they been ambushed by Trolls along the way? Or a random tribe of Rovers who had not agreed to the terms? She knew the more days that passed without word the better. No news was good news.

She would finally drift asleep in the early hours of the morning, pulled into unconsciousness by sheer exhaustion. Sleep was a new kind of torture however…

Catania thrashed in bed, twisting in the sheets, her legs tangled in the material. Her skin flushed and her mind drowning in the dream.

_His hands where all over her body, exploring, teasing, driving her crazy. His lips touched her neck, teeth nibbling at the pulse point. His hot tongue laved at the spot, soothing the tender red marks from his bites. Her hands were caught in the sheets, unable to reach for him. She squirmed underneath him, desperate to get her hands on his heated skin, to trace the hard lines of his body. It was agonizing._

_His fingers trailed down her body caressing all her sensitive spots, he cupped her breasts, pinching her nipples, making them harden into tight points…._

She awoke with a start, the erotic dream lingering on the edges of her mind. Catania pulled herself from the mess of blankets, her skin was hot, in her thrashing she’d pulled her night gown over her head, she lay naked, alone in her bed. The telltale dampness between her legs caused her cheeks to burn.

She’d been dreaming of Ander. Again!

She’d dreamt of him every night since he had left Arborlon, and each time the dream became more and more detailed, drawing her body into her imagination. Catania lay awake after that, her body humming with electricity.

She closed her eyes, taking long deep breaths in an attempt to calm her mind and regain sleep. It was of little use, finally giving in to her body she began sliding her hands up and down her front, trying to dispel the sensation of strong, calloused hands on her skin. Her fingers grazed lightly across her naked body, her breathing grew shallow, sweat beading on her neck and between her breasts.

Without realizing it her fingers had settled between her thighs, caressing her sex as Ander had in her dreams. A buzzing took hold of every nerve, sending her into a spiral of electricity. She shut her eyes, Ander’s face rising in her mind. Rubbing quick tight circles over her clit she came, light sparking behind her eye lids, the king’s name on her lips.

Finally, coming down from the crashing wave of her climax, the humming in her body slowed and she drifted into a dreamless sleep.


	8. All of Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is mostly from Ander's point of view during his time away from Catania. First "I love you"s.

Ander was road weary. It had been a hard ride from Arborlon to the meeting point of the treaty. It had taken their party five days ride to make the journey because of the snow on the ground.

They would have made it in four but on the third day they came across a felled tree. It had been struck by lightning the night of the storm. What was left of the enormous trunk was splintered into pieces and blackened from the electric strike. The mighty tree itself had fallen across the road. It had taken six elves and half a day to dismantle and drag the thing away.

Negotiations got underway nearly the moment King Ander and his party arrived. They spent a week squabbling over boundary lines between the human villages and the gnome lands. Another week was spent ironing out the trade routes and road toll details between territories. It was finally decided that the territory boundary would run along the river and tolls would be paid to the village that travelers were entering, rather than by what race the traveler was.

Ander counted the days away from home, away from Catania, away from Amberle like cuts on his heart. Every day away gone was a little harder than the day before. He longed for the sight of the Ellcrys, the touch of Catania’s fingers, and the comfort of his own bed. He missed the familiar sight of the stars over the palace at night.

More than anything he grew anxious by the hour, an excitement had caught hold of his mind and he pushed it away with great difficulty. It was like a boulder sitting in his pocket, rather than a simple circle of gold, a single sapphire seated in a cluster of diamonds.

Who was he kidding? It was hardly simple. The ring was an elegant and glorious piece of craftsmanship; one he had held close to his heart for a long time. It had belonged to his mother, before she had died. It should have gone to Aine for his wife, Amberle’s mother, but he had insisted on a ruby for his mate. After Aine it would have passed to Arion, but when he had died it fell into Ander’s hands. For months after his family had been demolished it had sat, unused, nearly forgotten, in a drawer beside his bed. Only when he had begun falling in love with Catania had its existence ceased to hurt, taking on the essence of something new.

He had been considering the idea for weeks before he’d left Arborlon on his diplomatic mission. The night before his departure his mind had been made up. When he’d seen the way Catania had reacted to the storm, her reliance on him, his heart had swelled, his love becoming an entity of its own. He knew in that moment he would never love another woman the way he did her. Even his time with Diana had grown fuzzy and dull compared to the glowing light that was Catania.

Ander pulled his head out of the past and refocused on the task at hand.

After more than four hundred hours of debating, shouting, compromising, and conceding, the deal was finally agreeable to all parties and was ready to be signed. Scribes had written out the document in their finely looped script. He knew his name, traditionally, would have gone first, and above the other representatives, but Ander was not a traditional king. He insisted the representative from the gnomes and humans signed before he signed his name beside theirs. Nobody mentioned the gesture but Ander caught the look of recognition in most of the eyes as he stood, holding the document high for all to see.

Finally, his work here was done. He’d been gone from Arborlon more than a month already, by the time they made the journey home he would have been gone forty-three days, assuming nothing else delayed them on their way. Ander was anxious to be away from the politically heated atmosphere of the treaty hall. The time spent on the deal had been important for the peace that had settled since the demon war, but it had also grated on his every last nerve.

Ander smiled for the first time in weeks the morning he mounted Philandros, knowing his time apart from Catania was coming to an end.

“Let’s go home, Phil,” he told the gray stallion. Philandros leapt into a canter clearly as excited to be home as the young king. Thoughts of Catania filled his mind as they went over the muddy road, dirt splashing up to splatter his boot heels and Phil’s legs.

Ideas flooded his mind; he could bring her back to the fire fly field and propose in the flashing light. Or he could carve a hole in the pages of a book for her to discover, but no, she’d be horrified to find a book so wounded. Perhaps he could drop it in a glass of wine as they toast to the treaty and his homecoming. As the hours passed Ander came up with more elaborate and ridiculous ways to propose, absurd even.

At one point he was seriously considering attempting to bake it into a cupcake but that came with a slew of problems, the least of which being he had nearly burned the kitchens down the last time he had tried to cook anything. Granted he had been ten at the time, and simply wanting a midnight treat, but that was beside the point.

Eventually, he focused on her bright smile and her eyes that matched the color of the stone in what would be her ring, if only she said yes. Deciding her eyes were the most beautiful in the afternoon light, an idea came to him, the most perfect idea.

A new childlike excitement over took him as his plan became clearer. He could see her saying yes in his mind’s eye. Only one detail was left undecided by the time he rode Phil up to the stables the following day.

He was relieving Phil of his saddle and bridle when Catania appeared, silhouetted in the doorway by the later afternoon light. She just stood there, staring at him as though she had traveled the desert to find the last glass of water in the entire world.

Patting Phil on the back, Ander strode to her, eating up the distance between them in three long strides. He gazed into her eyes a moment before collecting her up in his arms, pulling her close and burying his nose in the hair behind her delicate ear. She smelled of fresh baked lemon squares, clean laundry, and the start of spring, and everything he’d been missing for far too long.

He held her tight, pressing her body into his, her skin tingled and her heart sang to be in his arms once more. She held him just as tight, her arms around his back, her hands on his broad shoulders. Catania sighed, “Welcome home.”

Ander pulled back, looking into her eyes. He smiled as bright as the morning sun. “I missed you so,” he told her.

“Oh I missed you every moment,” she smiled widely at him.

“Have dinner with me tonight, love.”

Catania hugged him close once more, “Of course, darling, I’ve already prepared our meal.”

Ander grinned like a fool at that, she was an amazing chef and he looked forward to the meal.

And it was delicious, Catania had outdone herself. Fresh salad with spring greens, roasted potatoes, finely grilled chicken breast in lemon sauce, and a fresh batch of lemon squares with powdered sugar for dessert, his favorite.

They sipped wine, picking pieces of lemon flavored crumbs from their plates. They’d talked at length about the treaty and Catania’s visits with Amberle while he’d been away. They discussed the sights he had seen and how the weather had been during winter, they shared stories of when spring had finally come.

Hours later, they had exhausted most topics of conversation. They sat, Ander at the head of the table, Catania to his right, staring into each other’s eyes, their fingers twisting together on the tablecloth.

“I’m so glad to have you home, Ander,” she confessed.

“I am very happy to be home as well,” he replied. “There is something I’ve been wanting to tell you,” he told her, pulling her hands further into his, squeezing gently. “I love you, Catania.”

Her eyes glowed in the candlelight, and she squeezed his hands in return. “I love you, too,” Catania said, grinning brighter than the sun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, this is getting much longer than I had planned on it being, but the characters are speaking to me and I must obey. The story they want to tell is not nearly over yet. Stay tuned.
> 
> Comments feed my soul.


	9. Risking it All

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ander is home and Catania is thrilled. They spend the whole day together and Ander proposes!

Catania woke cheerful and excited the following morning. Ander was home, she would see him for breakfast.

He’d told her last night at dinner, “I’m stealing you away tomorrow. For the whole day.” He sat beside her licking a bit of lemon flavored sugar from the tip of his thumb, looking at her as though she were the next delicacy on the menu.

It had sent chills running through her body that electrified her nerves and heated her core. Her mouth went dry and her mind went blank. Catania blinked dumbly at the king a moment before mentally shaking herself.

“Tomorrow?” she asked. “All day?” a bit of resigned protest in her voice. Tomorrow was the first day of welcoming spring; the castle was still set for the cold winter nights. Windows needed to be opened, fire places needed cleaning, floors needed sweeping, and rugs needed beating. The entire place was due to be aired out. The to-do list was long and all hands were usually required for the week-long effort.

“No,” he cupped his hand against her cheek, stopping her, “You’re mine tomorrow. I have planned the whole day. It begins with breakfast with me, and not one second of it includes the palace, or any chores.”

She opened her mouth to try again, but he cut her off before she could protest a single sound. “I’m giving you the day off,” he smiled at her, taking her chin gently in his hand. “One of the perks of my job,” he told her, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “It’s good to be the king.”

“But—,” she began, just to see what he would do next. Ander shut down her argument swiftly and decisively by pulling her to him and sealing his lips over hers. He kissed her thoroughly, washing away any words from her mouth, and any thoughts from her mind other than the way he explored her mouth, the firm grip of his fingers on his jaw, and the liquid fire pooling low in her stomach.

Catania day dreamed about it as she tried to decide which dress to wear. He said they would be spending some time outside. The snow of winter had melted two weeks ago and the sun was finally drying out all the mud. The earth baking and cracking in the early spring heat.

Her fingers danced over the fabrics of her dresses, they were mostly dark colors, deep sapphire and a purple that reminded her of eggplants, several black, and one deep dark red that she wore only on days she was feeling especially fiery.

She was longing for something special, something different, more in-tuned with the awakening she was feeling, both in the world around her, and within her own heart, when her stumbled upon it. One in the back, that no one had ever see but her, one that was intentionally overlooked so often Catania hardly remembered it was there.

The satin chiffon gown was a bright sky blue with puffed capped sleeves and violet flowers embroidered in twisting vines along the hem. The dress was light and breezy, and a color Ander would love. Catania had forgotten the thing was there at all, because it wasn’t supposed to be.

The cerulean number had belonged to Amberle. She’d had the dress commissioned just before she had run, and won, the gauntlet. In all the chaos of saving the world from a demonic apocalypse the order had been forgotten, until it arrived at the kitchen doors, like all deliveries did, two weeks after Amberle had merged with the Ellcrys.

Fira had accepted the it unaware of what the simple package contained. Catania, however, knew immediately what it was by the elegant script adorning the envelope. The delicately filigreed writing of the finest seamstress in Arborlon was a familiar sight to the princess’ former lady’s maid, and life-long best friend.

The gown had been stashed in the back of her wardrobe ever since, unworn, unloved.

Forgotten.

Throwing her last concern out the window, Catania pulled the dress from her closet and readied with excitement bubbling through her veins. She twisted her hair into its usual orientation around the top of her head, thinking again of Amberle. It was the princess who had first decided to give Catania a crown of braids, it was something she had tried early on in their friendship. Catania had always enjoyed braiding Amberle’s hair, it was so silky soft, and she’d longed for a sister all her life to enjoy these exact moments with. She was teaching Amberle to braid and one night, sitting beside the Ellcrys, Amberle twisted the braids up over her head, pinning them in place with the wild violets that grow in spring among the mossy roots of the tree.

Catania touched her head gently, unwilling to disturb the precariously held locks. She smiled brightly at her new friend.

“Now we’re both princesses,” Amberle had told her, handing her the last violet.

Catania touched the dried flower now, sitting on her vanity beside a small sketch Amberle had made, of two young girls sitting at the base of an ancient tree.

Breakfast was a complete delight. They sat across from each other, toast, fried bacon, scrambled eggs, and the season’s first berries from the green house, spread between them. Ander had insisted on breakfast being delivered to his personal sitting room.

She sat there, in his private space, and Catania couldn’t help but glance at the partially open door that led to his bed chamber. In the single block of light coming in through the drawn curtains she could see his unmade bed. The covers had been thrown off at the foot, the sheets lay dragged across the floor where they had fallen this morning, presumably as he had dragged himself from it. The thought of Ander’s bed, and him in it, in very little clothing, ran through her mind, shooting fireworks along Catania’s nerves. She felt her face grow warm at her body’s reaction.

“When you’ve had enough,” Ander interrupted her lurid thoughts, glancing knowingly in the direction of her gaze, “we’ll head to the gallery, some paintings have been added that I think you’ll enjoy as much as I.”

She smiled brightly at him, his brown curls glowing in the light of the rising sun. They strolled side by side through the bustling corridors, the palace was awake and humming like a nest of honey bees. All around them elves hurried about, carrying boxes of cleaning supplies, sweeping the floors, and working in teams to haul the rugs outside to be beaten. Catania spotted a group of her friends from the kitchen dragging buckets of water in the opposite direction. She stopped a moment, feeling a little guilty for having such a wonderful day when she knew she should have been lugging her own bucket of mop water towards the front steps.

Ander caught up her hand, interlacing his fingers with hers. “Come on,” he coaxed her, squeezing her hand gently.

Just then, Mirelle turned to look over her shoulder, she smiled at Catania and waved, gesturing for her to go with the king. _Go, have fun!_ she mouthed and gave a wink. With that assurance from Mirelle she squeezed Ander’s fingers in return. “Yes, let’s go.”

As he led her through the long maze of hallways Catania found her cares flying far behind her, lost to the joy of easy conversation.

The art gallery had been very carefully curated for centuries, all the way back to the first Shannara. The space was a large circular room with walls in rings leading the viewer towards the center. The walls were lined with portraits of family members going back generations. Among the paintings of stuffy and long dead ancestors were landscapes of Arborlon, a few paintings of the Ellcrys, a few still life pieces. There was also one that, like the book by Robert Frost, had survived the war of man, a strange painting of a barren landscape and melting clocks. Really the gallery was filled with whatever caught the eye of the royal family at any given time.

Ander led Catania through the outer walls towards the center of the space where an enormous skylight looked down on the most recent generations of Elessedils. Here was the painting of his parents. Beside them was a portrait of Aine, and Amberle’s mother.

Ander watched Catania’s face as they moved past his parents and brother, to the newest additions to the collection. The first caught at his own heart strings. It was a portrait of Arion in full military dress, the symbol of the elven army on the front of his leather tunic. His long dark hair was pulled expertly away from his face, knotted at the back of his head. Beside him, Catania gasped softly, her eyes dancing over the next painting.

Amberle stood before the Ellcrys in a wine colored gown that flowed around her bare feet like leaves in the wind. Her hair fell in ringlets about her shoulders, and her face was turned up towards the red filled branches of the tree, kissing her cheeks in a pink light. The artist had captured her perfectly and the sight brought tears to Catania’s eyes.

Wrapping his arms around her, Ander rested his chin on her shoulder as they looked at the painting together.

“She would have loved this,” Catania said.

“I love _you_ ,” he replied, placing kisses behind her ear, turning her thoughts fuzzy and her insides to molten gold. He spun her in his arms, touching his lips to hers. Catania kissed him with passionate abandon, gliding her hands up his back. She could feel the heat of well-defined muscle underneath the thin fabric of his cotton shirt.

The sound of rumbling stomachs interrupted them, they pulled apart gasping and laughing.

“Has it been so long since breakfast?” he asked her.

Ander gave her one more kiss before saying, “Let’s go, lunch should be ready for us, just need to pick it up.”

They stopped in the kitchen to collect a large wicker basket and a blanket. Then Ander led her out into the courtyard. She recognized the path that led to the firefly field. The place where Ander had first kissed her. It was the same place Catania had begun falling in love with him.

Her heart fluttered as Ander started down the path, the basket and blanket tucked under one arm, the other held out for her to take.

They settled the blanket in the middle of the field and spread their meal out before them and tucked in.

Ander was suddenly nervous, the ring sat, concealed and burning a hole in his pocket. Catania was more beautiful than anything he’d ever seen in his life. She wore a soft blue gown that matched her eyes perfectly, the gentle breeze dancing through the hem. She was telling him about Adelina’s foal, Hardis, and the progress with his training.

“…he just kept running circles, trying to grab that carrot from Johnny,” she said, giggling, the sunlight shining down on her. Her hair was glowing like a halo and his heart swelled, an image of the rest of his life coming into focus.

Ander took her hand in his as her laughter faded. They sat quietly a moment, gazing into each other’s eyes.

He was the first to look away and Catania noticed a tint of pink in his cheeks. Ander was being a little strange today, more excited, anxious even, than she’d ever known him to be.

“There’s something I’ve been wanting to ask you,” he said a seriousness in his voice. He stood and pulled her to her feet beside him.

“Anything,” she smiled gently at him, confused by his sudden change of tone.

Ander jammed his hand down into his pocket, digging for something while holding tight to her fingers with his other. Catania felt butterflies flapping a hurricane in her stomach.

_What is he doing?_

That was when he bent down on one knee, and pulled a small circle of gold from the depths of his pocket. He held the intricate ring up in front of him. She could see his fingers trembling, sunlight sparkling off the large sapphire surrounded by two dozen tiny diamonds.

“I’ve tried to find a way to put into words what I feel for you… but nothing is as perfect as your beauty or my love for you,” he said. “Catania, will you do me the greatest honor of my life and marry me?” he asked, a hint of uncertainty coloring his voice, but hope and love shone bright in his eyes.

Catania’s heart burst with surprise and love for the strong, kind, and compassionate man that knelt before her baring his soul.

She must have had the worst look of shock on her face because his smile dimmed and the uncertainty in his voice crept into his eyes.

She touched his chin gently with her right hand, Ander leaned his cheek into her palm. “Yes,” she told him grinning like the love sick fool that she was.

Ander slipped the ring onto her left hand where it fit perfectly. His smile was brighter than the late afternoon sun that shone down upon them. Pulling her into his arms he lifted her feet off the ground, spinning her, laughing, through the wild flowers.


	10. Give My All To You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The wedding ceremony, they write their own vows, it's extremely romantic and sappy, you're welcome.

Four weeks later and Arborlon was well into the beginning of summer, and Catania had finished planning the wedding. The final touches had been completed on her dress just this morning, flowers had been picked from every field surrounding the palace, musicians were hired, and tents constructed in the courtyard. The kitchen had been working day and night for a week preparing the decadent menu.

They would be married in the sanctuary, before the Ellcrys so Amberle could share in their joy. After, dinner would be served in the courtyard, an enormous celebration for all the Four Lands to rejoice in. Every elf in Arborlon and the surrounding villages had been invited, Ander had even insisted on extending invitations to the humans and gnomes. Though the council loudly disagreed with his decision, he was king and had final word. Catania agreed, after the weeks of hard work they had all put in to make the treaty work for everyone they deserved a celebration as much as anyone else.

“Tomorrow,” she whispered to Amberle late the night before as Ander was tucked away in his office, finishing up his monthly reports. “Amberle, can you believe it? I’ll be married by this time tomorrow” smiling up at the red leaves, Catania’s heart swelled with love and ached for the loss of her best friend all at once. She felt as though she may crack and fall apart from all the emotion running through her veins.

The wind blew, gently rustling her branches. “I’m glad you’ll be there, even if it’s not the same as I would have imagined.” She sighed softly, knowing sleep would be elusive at best tonight, “I must go, tomorrow is a big day.”

Amberle watched as her friend nearly floated from the space, she was so happy to know they had found love in each other’s arms. Catania and Ander, they deserved happiness, they deserved love.

They deserved each other.

Settling in for the night, anxiously excited for tomorrow, Amberle drifted through all the memories of her and Catania growing up together before the Ellcrys.

 

Ander rose early, the sun a distant glow over the horizon, the sky just beginning to lighten. Today was the day. A stupidly broad smile split his face, it was the beginning of the rest of his life. The life he would make with Catania, all the years stretched out before them. Ander felt meaning return to his existence when he thought of it, a purpose far beyond maintaining the peace that had settled over the Four Lands. He had a partner now, someone to confide in his darkest fears and greatest hopes. Someone to share every last moment with, no matter how trivial.

Flinging the sheets aside, Ander rose from his bed and called for his morning bath. No sense in waiting any longer: he’d been waiting for years.

After breakfast Ander went to his office, unwilling to accidentally run into her, he knew the ancient tradition man had held, no way would he risk any amount of bad luck on this most glorious day.

He shuffled through paperwork, not really paying attention, he stared out the window at the buzz of activity in the courtyard below. The tents had been constructed over the last two days but the details were being put into place now. A rainbow of wildflowers was being tied in bundles at every post, torches staked into the garden beds, a stack of logs building in the far corner to fuel the bonfire all night long.

The sky was a clear blue, not a cloud in sight. Even if it had been a torrential downpour it would have been a perfect day.

Settling into his seat Ander propped his boots up on the windowsill and watched the structured chaos happening below, excited butterflies fluttering in his stomach.

 

Catania strode purposefully through the room, checking ever final detail, straightening the perfectly straight curtains, fluffing the already fluffed pillows and picking nonexistent specks of lint. She wanted everything to be absolutely perfect, it was a special surprise for new soon-to-be husband.

_Husband!_

The redecoration was a wedding gift and a symbol of the beginning of their union. Ander had commented more than once about the colors of his bedchamber, it reminded him every day that the room had belonged to his parents, and should have been Arion’s after that. It had been done up in dark reds, with heavy wooden furniture and absolutely not a single touch of the new King evident anywhere in the space. Catania had taken it upon herself to plan out the space and have it prepared for their first night together, a thought that sent a tornado of butterflies through her stomach and tingles down every nerve.

Taking one last look at the room she smiled, quite pleased with the result, and closed the door quietly behind her. She walked on clouds back to her room, reminding herself that it would not be her room any longer. It was probably a little early to begin getting ready, but she was as excited as could be and simply would not wait a moment longer.

Mirelle was in her room, getting everything set to help her prepare. She was hanging the dress from the window curtain when Catania walked in the room, a huge smile on her face.

“Is it all set?” she asked, coming over to pull Catania to the vanity.

“Yes, it’s completely perfect.” She sat before the mirror and let Mirelle start brushing out her long blond locks. “I hope he likes it,” she said looking at her friend in the mirror.

“King Ander will love it,” she said, touching her chin to Catania’s shoulder, “because he loves you.”

Catania blushed and sank into comfortable conversation while Mirelle twisting and braided her hair into an even more graceful knot than usual. She winded tiny pink wild roses into the locks.

 

Ander waited anxiously beside Amberle, his fingers winding together behind his back. He stood under the light of her crimson leaves, awaiting his future wife and queen. Allanon walked into the sanctuary, coming to his place beside the young king. He had returned just this morning from his search for information.

“Cutting it a little close, hmm?” Ander joked, thankfully he’d been able to contact Allanon by raven to keep him up to date of things happening in Arborlon and to ask him to be by his side on this most important of days. Traditionally it would have been Arion beside him, but that was clearly no longer an option, and there was no other man he would have considered for the honor. Allanon’s response had come swiftly, he would be most flattered to stand beside the king as he took his new queen to wed.

“My apologies, I was held up on the road,” he explained, taking his place at Ander’s side, “I am here now, my King.”

“Yes, dear friend, and I am glad for it,” Ander clapped him on the shoulder, grateful for the druid’s steady presence. He had missed the man, despite his often solemn and brooding demeanor.

Head council member Kael normally would have officiated the ceremony but it was well known by this point that she did not agree with the King’s choice of bride. Instead Leif, the council member just under Kael, would oversee the union. He entered the room, gathering everyone’s attention and signaling that they were about to begin. He motioned to Mirelle in the corner, whose fingers danced along the keys of the piano, a gentle melody singing out from the cords. It was a song that Catania had selected special for the occasion.

Amberle’s attention was draw immediately to the melody, it was one that she and Uncle Ander had written together last year, an ethereal tune that was like walking through a dream. If she had had eyes they would have overflown with tears at the joy of this moment.

Two black guards flanking the doors opened them and Catania came into view. She was the most magnificent thing that Ander had laid eyes on. Her hair was pinned elegantly, knotted at the back of her head, pink flowers spilling from the mass of gold. Her eyes glowed with love, an angelic smile lighting her face. Her dress was like summer mist clinging to her curves, layers of sheer white flowing around her legs as she walked towards him. She carried a bouquet of brightly colored wildflowers before her, the sight bringing to Ander’s mind the firefly field. He suspected that was the exact location she had picked them from.

Catania stopped before him just as Mirelle’s fingers lingered on the final notes of the music. She stood silently and came to stand beside them. Passing her bouquet to her, Catania smiled gratefully at her friend and faced her king and love, joining hands with his.

Leif raised his arms above his head, drawing the small group’s attention. “Welcome, friends. We gather together on this joyous day to witness the union of our beloved king and our new queen. It is a rare thing, to find such a love after so much tragedy has befallen one family. Join me in a moment of remembrance of our fallen king, prince, and princess.

Ander and Catania’s gazes met a moment, sadness deep in their eyes, they looked up at Amberle, their hearts fracturing that this was the closest she would come to sharing in their happiness.

“Our king and his bride have written their own vows,” Leif motioned for Catania to speak.

She turned to him and said, with tears of joy flowing freely, “Ander, today I give myself to you. I promise to encourage and support you, to laugh with you, and to comfort you in times of sorrow and struggle. I promise to love you through all the trials that may come, when life is easy and when it seems terribly hard, when our love is simple, and when it is not. I promise to always hold you in highest regard. These things I give to you today, and all the days of our lives.”

Ander squeezed her hands in his, a single tear spilling down his cheek at her graceful, passionate words. “Catania, I pledge to you to be your loving friend and partner in life. I promise to talk and to listen to your every thought, to trust and appreciate you. I promise to respect and cherish your uniqueness; and to support, comfort  
and strengthen you through life's joys and sorrows. I promise to share with you my hopes, thoughts and dreams as I build my life with you, because all of me loves all of you.”

Leif smiled brightly, clearly overjoyed at their union, much more approving of Catania than any of the other council members had proven to be. He raised his hands above them once more and said in a clear, strong voice, “May your lives be ever intertwined, your love keeping your union and our kingdom strong. May you build a world that is compassionate to all, full of respect and honors for those who have come before and those who will follow in our footsteps. May this land be ever filled with peace, happiness, and love.”

A short cheer went up around them, Mirelle and Allanon clapping louder than the rest.

“It is my greatest honor and pleasure to present our king and his wife. King Ander and Queen Catania, long may they reign,” he shouted, the branches of the Ellcrys shaking above them, sunlight pouring down. “You may kiss your bride,” he said softly, nearly drown out by the small group’s cheering.

Ander released her hands, cupping her face, bringing his lips down to hers. He kissed her with reverence and more love than she thought the world could handle without fracturing into a million glowing pieces of light. He lingered a moment longer, unwilling to release his wife.

He pulled away only far enough to look into her eyes, keeping a hold on her face. “I will love you every day of my life, and even when I am gone you will be a part of me, our love living on in the stars,” he whispered.

Fresh tears filled her eyes, “I love you, Ander, you’re my end and my beginning, every day I’ll give my all to you, and I know you’ll give your all to me.”

He smiled brightly and kissed her again, pressed his lips hotly to hers, a promise that tonight would be a night she would cherish for every moment of the rest of time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pieces of their vows and comments afterwards as well as the work and chapter titles come from John Legend's All of Me. Check it out: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=450p7goxZqg


	11. Spinning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The wedding reception, Allanon gives a moving speech, there's food and dancing. Don't fret, the next chapter will be what you have all so patiently waited for. :D

Dinner was exquisite. A plethora of delicious foods; meats, cheeses, pastas, fresh fruits, sweet treats from the baker, and a huge towered cake. Their quests quickly demolished the meal and settled into wine and liquor, fueling their desire to let go of their troubles and join in the joy of welcoming the new queen.

Shortly after everyone had settled into their seats and began filling their bellies a string quartet struck up a jolly tune beside the fountain. They played cheerily as appetites were sated, picking up the tempo when the first feet hit the open space set for dancing.

Once the guests were done with supper Ander and Catania moved to the enormous cake. He held her hand, she held the knife as it sliced cleanly through the strawberry crème cheese frosting. Servants moved quickly and efficiently bringing cake and a matched champagne to every person in attendance.

Allanon came to stand beside his king and new queen. Tapping a spoon gently against his champagne flute, he gathered everyone’s attention as the sound rang clear through the courtyard.

All eyes now on him he raised his glass, “King Ander came into the crown unexpectedly, and through great tragedy. He was a little unprepared and filled with the desire to do right by this land and to honor his father’s memory. He brokered the treaty that has cemented the peace we will enjoy for generations to come.”

A hearty cheer of agreement ran through the crowd.

“Now, our beloved king has chosen our queen, and she could not be more beautiful and compassionate. A fine partner and confidant she will make for you, King Ander, and a brilliant queen for us all,” he told them, looking at them each in turn. Allanon turned back to the crowd, “To King Ander and Queen Catania, long may they reign.”

The cheers that followed Allanon’s moving speech were deafening. Ander stood and shook the druid’s hand, pulling him in for a hug. “Thank you, Allanon, for everything,” he said.

Catania also embraced him, tears of appreciation and joy filling her eyes for what felt like the thousandth time today. She stretched up on her toes, placing a gentle kiss on the rugged druid’s cheek, “Thank you, Allanon,” she whispered. “I’m so happy you decided to make Arborlon your home.” 

“As am I, your majesty,” he replied, formal as always.

“Please, Allanon, call me Catania, I’m still the same girl I’ve always been,” she smiled at him, a soft blush spreading across her cheeks.

They were soon surrounded by their guests, all looking to congratulate them on their happy marriage. More political representatives and ambassadors than Catania would ever remember the names of wanted to meet their new queen.

The band picked up the tempo again and the dancing began in earnest. Catania spotted Mirelle dancing with Frederik, a huge smile lighting her friend’s face as he held her close, his hand on her waist.

Pulling her closer, his hand at her lower back, spreading heat through her middle, Ander whispered into her ear, “Dance with me.”

Catania looked up into his eyes, lit with a mischievous and childlike sense of joy, his fingers wandering in small circles across her back. He stole her breath away, her nerves singing with the electricity his touch sent through her. Dizzy, her heart slamming in her chest, she nodded at him, placing her hand in his.

He led her to the center of the dance floor, spinning her once and catching her up in his arms. He pressed her into his body, his hand burning hot through her dress just high enough above her backside for decent company. Ander held her tightly, leading her through the steps, winding through the other couples dancing to the lilting music that filled the courtyard. She lost herself in his eyes and in his arms, letting him guide her through the steps, his muscular thighs pressing between hers and moving away again.

So completely lost in her love for him and in his love of her, neither noticed that the dancefloor slowly emptied, the other couples stepping quietly aside, in complete awe of the beauty and grace with which their king led his queen around the stones. Their love obvious to anyone with eyes. The music swelled and they spun elegantly before their guests, all watching with wonder.

As the notes drifted off, the song coming to an end, Ander spun her twice more, her skirts flowing out around them, a soft summer rain began to fall. The guests started shouting in surprised laughter, running for cover in the open hall. Servants rushed to gather the remaining plates of food and cake, scooping up glasses of champagne and wine, helping the ladies inside, others holding the doors open.

Ander gazed down into Catania’s eyes, uncaring of the rain that was picking up and beginning to drench them through. She smiled back at him, her hands wrapped around his neck, fingers twisting in his dark curls. They were lost to the world, standing in the downpour, soaked to the bone, and burning like the sun for one another. Catania had had enough of the party and the din, so many people around them all day crushed together in the space of a few hours. She longed to be alone with her husband.

The fire in her eyes was easy to read, Ander pulled her impossibly close, the ridge of his desire for her clearly evident pressed against her belly. “Come, let us retire to our rooms,” he whispered, the words heavy with promise.

A shiver ran up her spine that had nothing to do with the sudden rainstorm and everything to do with the fire in his eyes and the lake of lava pooling in her center. Catania nodded, placing his hand in hers, and only then did they look around them and realize they were alone under the open sky. She laughed up at him, beginning to feel the heavy dampness of her dress as it clung to her skin. Ander laughed along with her, pulling her into his side and leading her away from the main hall to a door that led in the direction of their rooms.

A single servant stood, holding the door open for them with one hand, the other laden with a stack of soft towels for his king and queen.

Ander nodded thanks to the elf, wrapping a towel around Catania, and drying his face with another. The servant slunk silently off, leaving the rest of the towels on a nearby table for their use. Ander internally thanked his father for having trained such a well prepared and observant staff.

Looking down at his wife, thoroughly soaked through, the delicate fabric of her gown clinging to her body, he lost most of his control. Ander wrapped his arms around her, lining her body up against his. He stepped forward, pressing her against the nearest wall and brought his mouth down to hers. He kissed her with a hunger she gladly returned, meeting his every movement with a matched ferocity, desire pumping through their veins. She pulled at his wet shirt, tugging the hem out of his trousers, seeking the contact of his hot skin. Finally, he was hers to touch, to kiss, and there was no need for her to ever stop.

Ander pulled away, trying to catch his breath and get a grip on the reality around them. Remembering that they were in a main hall, not far from the party that carried on without them, he pressed his forehead to hers. The idea that they might be stumbled upon was a little exciting but she was his, and no one else’s. He would not share her with another person for another second of this evening.

“Come, I want you alone,” he told her, heat in his voice, “I want to peel that dress from you and kiss every inch of your skin.”

Desire flooded through her veins, pooling in her center. Her only response was to swallow heavily, her eyes glazing over with lust.

A wicked grin spread across his face, he took her hand and led her away from the noise of the celebration.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can see where this is going. Get ready.


	12. All Your Curves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ok everybody this is the chapter you have all been waiting for, the wedding night, finally the fluffy romantic smut that was promised from the beginning. Sorry [not sorry] this took so long, but Ander is quite the gentleman and would simply not make love to her until they were properly married. I'm planning a quick epilogue for the next chapter and then this fic will be finished. It has been along and interesting ride, 47 pages and almost 17k words. Wow!

Staying focused was nearly impossible, the fact that she was his, now and forever, pushing all reason and logic right out of his mind. Ander pulled Catania into his embrace twice more on their way to their bedchamber, simply unable to keep his hands off her luscious body. After all, what was even the point anymore?

His lips danced over hers, gliding along her jawline, down the curve of her neck, leaving her breathless and dizzy, a puddle in his hands. She was so caught up in his touch that she didn’t even hear the thunder booming in the sky above the palace, lighting flashing through the windows, illuminating them both in harsh light.

“Ander…” she moaned. They were in sight of their door, his lips trailing a path of cinders down her neck, when she remembered the surprise she had waiting for him.

“Yes, love?” he asked between hot kisses, his hands wandering down her sides, moving to cup her bottom and bring her closer against his body.

“I have a surprise for you,” she breathed out, nearly losing every thought and pulling him down to the floor right there in the corridor.

“A surprise?” he asked, pulling away to look at her, curiosity bright in his eyes. “What kind of surprise?”

She smiled mischievously at him, every feeling that had burned inside her for him since the beginning clear in her eyes. She took his hand and began to lead him the rest of the way to their rooms.

“Close your eyes,” she commanded.

He cocked a single eyebrow at her, his curiosity piqued, but obeyed dutifully.

She waved her hand in front of his eyes, making sure they were closed tight, and opened the door, pulling him into the space that was now theirs to share.

“This way,” she said, guiding him into the center of their bedroom, facing towards the enormous bed so that he would have the best view of the changes she made. Suddenly, she was intensely nervous, she hoped he liked it. Taking a deep breath to steady her nerves, she said, “Open your eyes.”

He did so slowly, candle light filled the large room, soft and dancing across the freshly colored walls. The room was familiar and yet completely new.

Deep turquoise hangings with gold fringe covered the walls behind the bed which was draped in royal purple satin sheets, silver trimmed pillows tossed effortlessly across the spread. He looked around his new surroundings, taking in every detail of the work she had done. Even the carpet had been torn up and replaced with a matching purple and gold, thick below his feet. He instantly had the desire to kick off his shoes and feel the luxurious fabric under his toes. Though the space was new there were important touches that had remained, bringing a sense of comfort and familiarity to the newly designed space. The golden candelabras anchoring the bed had been in the room for generations, along with the wall scones opposite them, each flickering with gentle candlelight. Even the enormous bedframe, though it had been reupholstered was familiar to him.

Catania waiting impatiently behind him, worry hidden in the back of her eyes, waiting for his response. He turned to her, surprise and wonder clear on his face. He held out his hands for her to come to him.

She stepped forward, placing her hands in his, looking deep into his face for his approval of the changes. Completely unable to read his expression she asked him, “Do you hate it? We can change it back, I had them keep everything in case— “

He cut her words off with his lips, pulling her into him once more, kissing the worry from her mind, “I love it. It is completely perfect, and it suits us both, I believe.”

She smiled, overjoyed with his words, and launched herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck, pulling him back down to her lips. Ander gripped her at the waist, his fingers curling in the wet fabric of her gown.

Now that they were alone in their personal space, Ander felt as though there was all the time in the world. He lingered on her lips, exploring her mouth with a hunger he had kept leashed until now. His hands gliding up her spine and landing on her bare shoulders, he toyed with the straps of her gown, tugging gently at the material, as if asking permission, ever the gentleman.

Catania’s response was to bring her own fingers up to his collar, tugging at his tie, pulling the silk free of its knot and plucking at the top button of his shirt. She moved down the row, slipping each button free of its hole in turn. Catania slipped her hands inside the shirt, touching the smooth skin of his chest for the first time, marveling at the feel of soft flesh over toned muscle.

Ander slipped the straps off her shoulders, grazing his hands down her arms, leaving a trail of fire in the wake of his touch. Releasing his hold on her he shrugged out of his jacket and shirt. He wrapped one arm around her waist and turned her back to him. One by one he gently pulled the pins and flowers from her hair, massaging the sore marks on her scalp where they had held the braids in place. The thick golden locks fell freely down her back. Brushing them across one shoulder he took to the delicate buttons holding her gown together, slipping them each from their loops. The fabric sagged open, revealing a plane of creamy skin.

Leaning forward, Ander pressed searing kisses along her spine and across her shoulders. Catania shivered under his touch. She turned around, wanting to look at him as she let go of the dress that was only held up by her own hands. The white silk chiffon dropped in a puddle at her feet, leaving her skin bare for him. He held her eyes as the dress fell. His eyes slid slowly down her body, enjoying every inch of smooth skin as it flushed softly under his hungry gaze.

He reached out and captured her tiny waist with his hands, pulling her naked body against his chest. “You are the most beautiful thing I have seen in my entire life,” he whispered reverently in her ear, sending chills down her spine.

Catania explored his bare chest with her hands and eyes, sliding over the dips and curves of toned muscles. He caught her jaw with one hand, tilting her face up to his and pressed his lips against her mouth. Ander traced his fingers down the length of her neck, over her shoulder, cupping one breast in his rough hands, pinching the end gently. Arching her back, she pressed her body further into his touch, silently begging for everything he was more than willing to give to her.

He grazed his hands down her sides, lighting every cell on fire, he cupped her bottom, pressing her ever closer to the rigid length of his erection, burning her in the most exquisite way through the fabric of his trousers. He gripped her backside firmly, lifting her off her feet. Instinctively she wrapped her legs around his waist, holding tight to his neck. He devoured her mouth, tasting her more thoroughly than he had dared in the past, wanting to bind her to him in marriage and law before binding her in body and soul.

Holding her as though she were light as a doll he carried her to the bed, laying her gently amid the ocean of purple satin. He kissed her like there was no tomorrow and yet deep in his heart he knew there would be more days ahead of them than he ever thought he could have deserved. Pulling away to look into her lust filled eyes, pupils blown wide with her desire and love for him, he stood and reached for the button at his waist.

Sitting up quickly, Catania stopped his hands, laying her own fingers on his. She looked up at him, brazen passion written clear on her face, as she plucked the button free from its home, sliding the tiny zipper down. Her eyes ran across the ridges of defined muscles before her as she gripped the waistband, tugging tentatively on the material until they slipped over his narrow hips and thick thighs.

Ander watched, an animalistic pride burning through his veins as her eyes grew wide at the sight of his complete nakedness. He kicked off his shoes and stepped out of the pool of fabric at his feet, climbing onto the bed above her. His eyes raked across her bare skin, a fierce blush making her glow in the candlelight. She scooted further onto the bed, touching her hands to his chest, tracing patterns over the tanned skin of his sides and across his back.

Covering her body with his, Ander leaned down on his elbows, brushing golden locks away from her face. He gently kneed her thighs apart, settling into the cradle of her hips. The weight of his body above hers was exactly what she’d been wanting for weeks, the feel of closeness filling her once-empty heart to bursting.

He pressed forward slowly, her body accepting of the heavy weight of his rigid length. She moaned loudly as he pushed home, holding still a moment, allowing her tightness to adjust to his size.

“Oh, Ander…” she moaned into the night, her eyes closing.

“By the gods, Catania, you are perfection,” he said as if in prayer, kissing her exposed throat, tonguing at the pulse racing in the hollow of her collarbone.

Gripping his sides with her small hands, she pulled him further into herself, needing him closer, needing his touch, his love.

Needing everything he offered to her.

Slowly, he pulled away, and she groaned with passionate frustration. The sensation was magnificent, the emptiness bittersweet, knowing it would only get better as he thrust into her welcoming body again.

Ander moved above her, like waves on the shore, pulling out and crashing back to her, driving her ecstasy higher, her body singing his name. She was as desperate for his touch as he was for hers, arching off the sheets, meeting his every movement, matching him, stroke for stroke. Her nails dug into the muscles moving in his back and he thrust into her, riding as high as she on the wave of their shared passion.

He placed his left hand lovingly against her cheek, his right wandered down her front, reaching down between them to find the place she craved his touch the most. His touch anchored her to this world, to this moment and simultaneously sent her to the stars, spiraling out of control. Rubbing tiny circles over her most sensitive spot, he felt her clench around him, her release coming up quickly. The knowledge of her passionate joy in this moment carrying him along with her.

Thrusting into her twice more, she cried out his name, tightening around him as she soared off the edge of the cliff into sweet mindless bliss. Once more and he jumped, following her climax, spilling his seed deep within her womb. Deep in his heart he wished that she would soon be with his child, their love made tangible and physical; new life brought into this world by the purest emotion he had ever known.

Ander pulled away, already missing her warmth, he tugged her gently under the covers with him, tucking her securely into his side.

“Mm,” Catania sighed, more elated and satisfied than she ever had thought she had the right to be.

Pressing soft kisses along the line of her shoulder, Ander whispered to her, “I love you, my darling wife.”

“My husband, you are my everything,” she said. “I love you more than there are stars in the sky.”

They snuggled close together, drifting off to the most peaceful sleep they had had in months, wrapped safely in each other’s arms, dreaming of the life of joy and happiness that was spread out before them.

THE END

**Author's Note:**

> This piece is entirely thanks to the lovely @HolyMaidenHuntress / @theshannaraelfstones on Tumblr. She is amazing and is my co-captain aboard the good ship Catander. Here on Ao3 she is known as @MorrigansPriestess. She's awesome and you should read her fic Red & Silver, Blue & Gold.


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